Thursday, December 3, 2015

A guest post by my friend and Stake High Councilman here in the San Francisco Stake, Matt Mosman.

I can't underscore enough how much respect I have for this man. A multi-generational Mormon who almost unceasingly exhibits Mormonism at its best--even when he disagrees with others, including me. He's also among the most well-read Latter-day Saints I know when it comes to scriptures and our history, and has consistently been a voice of reason in rooms where there doesn't seem to be enough of it around. He is not only someone I admire, but he is someone I'm quite honored to call my friend.

Here is his take on the growing trend to vilify individuals who disagree with the new LDS policy on LGBT indiivudals and their chidlren. Whether or not you agree with the policy, there is something for you to learn here.

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In the past month, because I’m struggling with the church’s recent
pronouncement on people who enter into a same-sex marriage and the children of
those couples, I’ve been accused of a few things:

Lacking a testimony

Not being an active member

Not knowing my own mind

Being a person who values “fitting in with the world” over “God’s
truth”

Being part of a “quitter culture”

“Taking the easy way out”

Literally being “Anti-Mormon”

Et cetera

All of this -- all of it -- from folks who live hundreds of miles
from me, none of whom has ever had the opportunity to meet me or talk with me.
A few were positively stunned to learn that I hold a stake calling, as I have
at one level or another for the past decade. I can’t know for sure, but none
seem to have considered the notion that perhaps I am a man who loves the Mormon
church, wants desperately for the church to be as amazing as I think it can be,
wants to help in every way, prays for the leadership of the church to be guided
by the hand of God, and yet honestly wonders if the church has gotten this one
right just yet.

I’m not alone. This vilification of those who disagree has been
playing out across wards and stakes all over the world. That’s a problem, I
think. And I want to think out loud about issues that seem to give rise to it.

On Accusations of “Anti-Mormonism”

More years ago than I care to admit, I was walking down a Chicago
street with my missionary companion, Elder Hansen (not his real name). It was
one of those sweltering Midwestern summer afternoons, where the air just sort
of lays on you like steaming barber’s towels. We were in the middle of a
particularly fruitless day of tracting, knocking on door after door without
success.

As we approached a street corner, a cluster of teenagers, not much
younger than we were actually, appeared with what must have been thirty water
balloons in their hands. Each of the kids was soaked; apparently this had been
going on for a while.

Seeing us, they laughingly called out “church boys!”, and
proceeded to unload their stash of balloons on us. All of them. We were
drenched.

Which, to be honest, felt wonderful. I ran my hands through my wet
hair and stooped to pick up my scriptures, which I’d dropped when I threw my
hands up to ward off the “attack.” Cool water ran down my back. The boys ran
away laughing.

I stood back up, and Elder Hansen was looking at me very
seriously. I think maybe tears were welling up in his eyes, though it was hard
to tell with his face all wet. “Elder Mosman,” he said quietly, “we will be
blessed for enduring this kind of persecution.”

Mormons, it turns out, are hyper-sensitive to persecution. A bunch
of kids having a good time on a hot day becomes a mob bent on harassment, and
just about any attempt to disagree becomes “anti-Mormon.”

At some level it’s understandable, since we are simply recalling a
time when persecution was real. It’s worth noting that Missouri’s Executive
Order 44, calling for Mormons to be “exterminated or driven from the state,”
was formally rescinded less than forty years ago (though to be fair, it was
unused and dormant for many years before that). Mormons didn’t happily resettle
to Utah -- they were driven there by threat of mob violence in Illinois, quite by
force, and settled there at least in part because it was far enough away from
everyone else that they felt safe from being murdered.

So I get it.

But part of being a religion that people can take seriously is an
ability to allow that people, both from within and from without, will disagree
on all kinds of things -- doctrines, policies, whether Diet Coke is allowed by
the Word of Wisdom, how and when to bring up to that one deacon that he needs
to comb his %$#@ hair before passing the sacrament. Most disagreements are
between well-meaning people who just see things from different perspectives. I’ve
had people “do me wrong,” to borrow the old cowboy phrase, but almost never on
purpose.

Disagreement is not persecution, and a Mormon who just doesn’t see
a certain topic the same way as you do is not necessarily even trying to get
you to see things his/her way. Persecution implies a certain degree of ill
intent -- while I may actually do some kind of harm to you on accident, it is
surpassingly difficult to accidentally persecute someone.

Likewise, I think it would be very hard to accidentally be
anti-Mormon.

Moreover, “anti-Mormon” is a bit of a dog whistle for believers,
and should be applied with a significant degree of caution. The accusation puts
the person with whom you disagree outside of the circle. They become, not a
brother or sister who may have a perfectly good reason to feel hurt or who has
a genuine and prayerfully-considered position on a matter, but simply an enemy
of Christ’s church. It’s a heck of a thing to accuse a person of that.

The accusation effectively ends any possibility of a decent
discussion, where I might learn from you and you from me. There can be no
give-and-take after that. I am the enemy. You hold the Standard of Liberty. I’m
wrong. You’re right. The End.

But Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf suggests that debate is okay. In
fact, he says that it’s central to our church’s history: “In this Church that
honors personal agency so strongly, that was restored by a young man who asked
questions and sought answers, we respect those who honestly search for truth,”
he offered in the October 2013 General Conference. I suggest that we all take
him at his word, and allow for people to wonder (and, maybe, wander) a bit.

And in any case, I presume that no one is claiming infallibility
for the church’s leadership.

Do Mormons Believe in a Doctrine of Infallibility?

Mormons do not believe in infallibility. As George Q. Cannon
wrote, in “Gospel Truth”: “The First Presidency cannot claim, individually or collectively,
infallibility. Infallibility is not given to men. They are fallible.”

There is a sort of pat Mormon response to this that allows that
the leadership of the church can make mistakes, like I suppose miscalculating a
tip or something, but not in the guidance of the church. But this simply does
not hold up to even the most casual scrutiny. Elder Uchtdorf refreshingly told
us in the talk referenced above: “To be perfectly frank, there have been times
when members or leaders in the Church have simply made mistakes. There may have
been things said or done that were not in harmony with our values, principles,
or doctrine.”

I don’t want to overstate that. I don’t believe that he meant that
it happens all the time, or that everybody in church leadership in Salt Lake is
just blindly guessing, or that doctrine is some kind of drunkard’s walk that
eventually settles on truth. But this great leader of our church, in a bold
attempt to cast the net wide and draw all of us together, nevertheless cast the
notion of infallibility aside rather dramatically.

That this is true is not only self-evident from the fact that we
are dealing with mortals, it is also evident in our history: Brigham Young’s
ideas about Adam and Wilford Woodruff’s notation in the Journal of Discourses
that “God himself is increasing and progressing in knowledge, power, and
dominion, and will do so, worlds without end” would be considered heretical
today (at least the knowledge part), and one cannot read the church’s essay
about “Race and the Priesthood” without stopping a bit on this sentence:
“Over time, Church leaders and
members advanced many theories to explain the priesthood and temple restrictions.
None of these explanations is accepted today as the official doctrine of the
Church.” (My italics)

Now, I want here to say that I am very reluctant to point those
issues out. Many members feel strongly that the church’s leadership has never
erred, and it gives them comfort to believe that. And for myself, I view those
instances and others like them as anomalies in the stellar guidance that the
church’s leadership has given to its membership over the years. I’m not saying
that the church’s leadership is as likely to be wrong as it is to be right. I’m
only saying that it can and does happen that mistakes are made, and I’m
suggesting that it shouldn’t bother us much to say that.

Ultimately, you cannot at the same time hold that the leadership
of the church is not infallible, and yet believe that they never, ever make
mistakes. That is like suggesting that a person is not left-handed while
observing that they never, ever do anything with their right hand.

In the end, the determination of what is right is our own
responsibility. As J. Reuben Clark said, “The question is how shall we know
when the things they have spoken were said as they were 'moved upon by the Holy
Ghost?' I have given some thought to the question, and the answer thereto so
far as I can determine, is: We can tell when the speakers are 'moved upon by
the Holy Ghost,' only when we, ourselves, are 'moved upon by the Holy Ghost.'

In a way, this completely shifts the responsibility from them to
us to determine when they so speak.” (To seminary and institute faculties,
Brigham Young University, July 7, 1954.) I am aware that one could produce a
mountain of quotes that say, in essence, “just follow the prophet without fail.”
That certainly solves for a lot of issues. But it removes from us the responsibility
to work out our own salvation with fear and trembling. I do not doubt that I
will never be led astray by the prophets and apostles. I am satisfied
that they are amazing men, and that they are guided quite remarkably by the
hand of God. They will never lead me southwest when the proper path is due
north. But to say that they will never be mistaken at any point on a
matter of policy, or even on a matter of doctrine, is to ignore settled facts
and to shirk our own responsibility.

Policies can certainly be incorrect and require change, and we
have to allow that even some doctrines will change over some period of time. To
say that nothing can ever be revised or modified is to say that you do not
believe in the ninth Article of Faith. Joseph did not write that a few
niggly things would be revealed, so long as they were revealed within a few
years surrounding the church’s founding. He wrote that “many great and
important things” were yet to be revealed. This thrilling possibility is one of
the most attractive things about the church, in fact.

So where does that leave us, or maybe more accurately, where does
that leave me? A little askew, is the short answer. I don’t easily or
flippantly stand apart from the leadership of my church. It’s not something I
do without feeling “off.” But when I search my own mind and heart, and yes even
when I pray about this latest policy, I don’t feel good about it. I don’t feel
peace or warmth or goodness or any of the things I’ve learned to associate with
truth. I feel confused and discouraged.

I’ve read that a fairly large number of church members who feel
similarly discouraged have chosen to leave the church, but that is not for me.
I respect their choice (another thing Elder Uchtdorf asked us to do in that
conference talk), but it’s not mine. I’ve raised my hand to say that I will
sustain my church leaders, and I intend to do that. “Sustain” to me means something
like “support them in every way to magnify their callings,” and I don’t think
that is accomplished if I were to leave, or if I were to pretend I’m okay when
I’m not.

This is how I’m sustaining them: by being honest. Being honest is
supporting. Being honest is helping. Doing nothing never is. A fake
assent never is. Church leaders can do with that what they will, but at least
they’ll know.

So here I am, along with thousands and thousands of others,
feeling a little unmoored. And here’s the thing: you don’t have to feel that
way. I’m just asking you to be respectful and thoughtful when friends tell you
that they do.